It's Christmas Time for Weißes
by PeechTao
Summary: How exactly did Aya get that Porsche? What happens a lonely christmas, left in the Koneko alone, with German monster movies, eggnogg, lot's of eggnog, and a bank full of yen waiting to be spent? Aya hits the town searching for his christmas of old. FUNNY


PeechTao is back baby! Bet you are glad to see something dished out by me, eh? Well, Nanowrimo has helped me improve my writing style so hopefully this is all a little better then the norm! I have a bunch of stuff in the works, especially for Weiss Kreuz, so keep checking me out!

Weiss Kreuz

Aya feels the need for some holiday cheer after two months of being with Weiss. The boys leave him to himself this Christmas, and come home to a Porsche. What has he done?

Non Yaoi, strong Youji-Aya friendship.

This is an original thought book, but i do not own anything to do with Weiss Kreuz or Love Hina. muhahaha (do to a correct reviwer, previously stated love "hinta's" have been changed to love "hina")

* * *

((foreign language)) -dictionairy for these at the end of the book 

_**thoughts**_

"speech"

* * *

"It's Christmas Time for Weißes"

"Go away."

"Aya, open the door."

"Make me."

"I can break it down you know!"

"Do your worst, Youji-Chan."

Youji grimaced. "All right sweet-heart you want to tangle I'm fine with that, just let me get one line around you and –"

"Youji?'

The playboy's face fell. The voice was strained, as if painful on the other side of the door. For a moment he became afraid. "Yes, Aya?"

"Shut up and go away."

How Aya-like, he groaned. "Fine you jerk. You stay locked up in your room all winter, but we're going to the cottage. For Heaven's sake, Aya, its just a short mission, I don't see what the big deal is! Omi's braver then you–"

"Youji."

" ..."

"Shut UP!"

Youji grimaced. "Fine! Good bye!" He kicked the bottom of the door for good measure and thundered louder then usually down the stairs to meet Omi and Ken in the kitchen. Everyone was set and ready for the mission and a short stay in the winter cottage for the Christmas break Kritker had decided to give them. After killing this drug runner that is. What was his name? For the life of him, Youji couldn't remember, but in honesty neither did he care. All he knew was all the beauties would be up in the cold mountains for the snow this Christmas and he was totally going to enjoy himself. With or without Aya.

It wasn't a huge surprised the silent red-head stayed behind. He had only been with the team for a couple months now, and during that time he proved to be silent, reclusive, lacking in social mannerisms, and yet the ladies loved him about as much as they did Youji! He never could get that part down. But as the oldest, Youji felt it was his necessity to rag on the new guy to try and break him in. Not a single one of those piercing eyes fazed him in the very least. He was even the only one willing enough to touch Aya. Omi and Ken blatantly refused too, especially when Ken accidently surprised Aya one day and received a black eye out of it. Youji had his glasses busted once, and a near miss between katana and throat had almost spelt his undoing when he turned a stray corner during a mission.

But one thing Aya did refuse was social situations. And even though a mission a.k.a., money, was involved, he flat out refused to go. Regardless of Youji's prying into his life. On more then one occasion the older man was found snooping around Abyssinian's room. Abyssinian. That was his code name. Youji thought it was stupid. He could think of half a dozen other names far superior, but apparently that was his previous code name too. Yeah, Aya was an experienced guy. Straight off of Kritker's German Assassin division, he supposedly put in for the transfer to the higher paying Tokyo job, even though it was obvious he wasn't acclimating well. He would disappear for hours then suddenly show up during his shift in the flower shop like nothing happened. Youji hated it, but understood it. He already knew everything about Aya that he needed. Everything, and that scared Abyssinian since none else had managed to do it.

Youji prided himself in that.

"Let's go, the lazy one isn't leaving." Youji told them, gathering up his gear in his hands.

Omi gave a worried look. "Are you sure? It's Christmas, doesn't he want to . . ."

"No. Now come on." Youji pushed passed him and walked out, throwing his stuff into the trunk of the Seven. "Too bad. He doesn't have a car and I'll commit suicide before I'll leave this baby with him."

Ken rolled his eyes skyward. "Yeah, whatever. I just don't like the fact that we're leaving him behind. It feels, impersonal, you know? He's new, I don't want him getting the wrong impression." He took up Omi's bag and stuffed it in next to his own before slamming the trunk and getting in.

"He'll be fine. Sheesh, what are we supposed to do, give a welcome new assassin party or something? I don't know what you did before I showed up!" Youji put the car in reverse and peeled out, leaving the Koneko, and Aya, long behind.

Aya watched them go with complete satisfaction. This was the first time since two months he had been there he was given full and complete control of the shop and all that entails. Heck, he could sell every flower for half a yen if he wanted to. Even that hideous monstrosity Ken had been doting for over two weeks now. Then again, he could also dig up the old flowers from the trash and sell them as modern art over the internet for millions. He smiled devilishly. Or even let everything die, and run away to never be seen again!

He gave a subtle chuckle. Something he could never consider doing around the guys. Except maybe Youji. Idiot playboy, he could never pull the wool over on him.

He stood up from his spot on his bed and stretched his cold laden limbs. One reason no one ever hung around the Koneko no Sumu Ie in winter was the heat hadn't been fixed in a decade. Aya put that on his to-do list, right next to raiding Youji's room and keying his car just for the enjoyment. Then he remembered hearing that soft purr of the engine sail into the distance moments ago, and realized the precious Seven was gone into parts unknown with the chain smoker staining the interior with ash. Now that hurt to think about. Oh what the assassin would do to own that car!

Aya sighed and lowered his shoulders after his stretch and walked down to the kitchen to find some breakfast. Of course the cupboards were empty. No surprises there. He instead sat at the table with his head resting on his hand, wondering what he would do first. One full Christmas week to himself, what is a killer-for-hire to do?

Shop.

Shop for what?

Christmas presents? No.

Why not?

Aya sat back and thought up an answer to his mind's question. Not finding one, he stood, grabbed his long trench coat and headed out for a walk. Almost instantly he was driven back in by a gust of frozen snow flacks that impaled his fair cheeks. Oh, this was going to be COLD. Why couldn't Youji have left the Seven? Why couldn't he . . .Aya raised an eyebrow. Why didn't Aya get a car? He still had his license. Kritker made him renew it when he got back to Tokyo. But he couldn't just get any car. He needed a real car. Something that couldn't blush next to the powerful Seven. Something with muscle and style and, dare say, something that ladies would be found in the parking lot drooling over. Oh, he needed to find just such car. And he needed it now.

Before going out to random dealers to look for this mysterious new beauty forming in his mind, Aya ran for Omi's computer. He had been the back up hacker for Rosen Kreuz, so the net wasn't exactly a foreign object to him, it was simply odd seeing it all in Japanese again and not German. Now what was he looking for? Oh yeah, the mother of all cars. No, not cars, of anything that ever existed on four, one, three, even eighteen freaking wheels! He would get a semi if it could crush the Seven into pay dirt! Oh, and the look on Youji's face, coming in that drive, seeing Aya's baby crisp and new with its sweet paint job gleaming . . . it made his mouth water! Aya had never been so excited over something in his life. Once or twice he out and out stopped himself to reevaluate his plan in case some strange mental handy cap had suddenly befallen him unknowingly. But lo and behold it was simply peace. Peace and the thought of grinding that playboy's nose into the crisp smoke-free cushions of his driver's seat.

He laughed, showing more of an evil cackle then actual glee. He knew if that kid, Ogi or Moi, or whatever the bloody Hades his name was, saw him now, the kid would run away in fright. That only made his fingers fly even quicker over the keys. Oh it would be grand. Sleek, beautiful little she-car. One so perfect he could . . .he could . . .

Aya stopped again to think. He could give it to his sister. A smile touched the assassin's lips to think. Now he was no longer thinking for him, but his sister. She would want something small, sort of sporty and compact. New. Baby, she was going to be brand spankin' new!

What was Aya-Chan's favorite color?

Yellow.

He thought about it, no, that wouldn't work.

What is my favorite color?

Black, pitch dark, kidney blood black.

He bashed his head on the key board.

What is Youji's favorite color?

White. Aya smiled devilishly. He was now shopping for Youji's disgust, Aya-Chan's love, and his own personal triumph over the smoker. Let the games begin!

Wait . . .how did he know that about the playboy?

"..."

Small, has to be small.

Air bags, or live dangerously?

Air bags, assassination is dangerous enough.

Two door, or four door?

Four door, that way he can have the space for everyone, even though he would **never** let them ride in it.

Another evil smile. Weiss Kreuz may just turn out to be more interesting then he thought.

Weiss.

White.

Huh, now isn't that funny–

AHA! He found her. She was perfect. Beautiful and perfect. Aya-Chan always dreamed about owning a car just like this. It would be perfect for her. Perfect for him. Perfect, perfect, perfect!!!!! _**Just take care of the car until she wakes up,**_ he reminded himself solemnly praying, wishing, hoping against all odds she would wake up. One day. Now that little thought just killed his mood, but he continued on, continued to ogle at his car. No, not a car, a Porsche.

Roar baby!

He picked up an extra jacket, wrapped a couple dozen scarves around his neck and headed into the blizzard cold. Dreaming pleasantly about that cowhide leather interior and that possibly, for his Christmas present, Youji would crash and burn the Seven, but not be maimed enough himself to not see Aya's new car.

Aya first made a quick stop at his safety deposit box in town to withdraw the countless yen he'd saved up since he turned sixteen, then he safely stuffed the cash in his innermost jacket pocket. And heaven help the man who tried to rob him.

The dealer was close by, just in town. It didn't take long to find someone willing to take his stack of rolled bills. More or less he drew it out in a crowed of no one and suddenly he was swarmed upon by a thousand seagull men ready to wheel and deal that commission into their own pocket. Aya was not a man to be messed with, however, and that was soon discovered. He knew what he wanted, and was willing to pay then and there for it, no questions asked. One man dared try and change his mind and received such a stair that his cohorts backed away fiercely, as if to watch him burst into flames. After that they listened to the scant words that chanced to pass through his pursed, feminine lips.

"White Porsche, four door, leather interior." A death glare. "Now."

And that sealed it. He was shown the "last one" on the lot. He didn't even take the time to drive it, feel the power beneath his finger tips. It just looked good enough, if it didn't run, he would make it. Other then that, she was exactly the car his sister would be proud of. Out came the cash, paying her off in full along with about three years of insurance he figured paying for up front would be the better choice. Being an assassin did have the pitfall of never knowing if you'll live through tomorrow, or have enough money for it on that matter.

Two hours after the beginning of the search, she was his. (("Süß,")) he whistled happily, walking around the Porsche in reverence. (("und schön.")) He whispered to himself in German. The men continued to crowd, so they themselves could finely see a possible smile pass those cold, hard lips. He wouldn't give them that satisfaction, though. The got in easily and rocketed out of the dealership into open highway without so much as a glance back. To make it all so much the better, he still had over half his bank account left. Since he was such a nice guy, he got off dirt cheap. That is to say, since he looked so blooming threatening they were scared to the tips of their dress shoes to give him full price and knocked it down a few hundred thousand yen just to get him out quicker.

Now that would really burn Youji up. He couldn't wait for the guys to see it! But first, he would do something tangible for the moment. Go see his sister. He parked the fierce ride beneath a hollow of cherry trees and snapped a few dozen photos before rushing up to Aya-chan's room to show her. He was in such a flurry of excitement he didn't even stop to get a visitor card from the nurses' station, but they let him off easy. For the last two months he had come through at least once a day. He had forgotten how much he missed Aya-chan when he went to Germany.

"Aya! Aya, you'll never believe what I did!" He said with excitement, whipping out his phone and sitting beside her. "I know I shouldn't have, but I just needed it, you know. This won't do anything to you, ok. Kritker has plenty for that, so you'll be just fine. But I bought you something that I know you'll love." he stroked a few fingers across her cheek, brushing a variety of stray hairs away. "It's a Porsche. Pure white, black leather interior, rides so easy and amazing. You'll love it." He smiled tenderly. Something he only showed her. He scrolled through the pictures on his phone, hoping she may catch a glimpse of them through her partially opened eyes and be aware enough to recognize what he'd done.

He stayed with her for a few hours, discussing where the other Weiss had gone. How much he missed working in Germany, and the different flowers in the shop which winter was slowly fading away.

Afterwards he got back into the chilled afternoon air and drove. Simply drove. It felt so nice to have that open road beneath him. Then the thought of the other Weiss came to his mind. It was Christmas after all. And he knew Aya-chan would want to shoot him if he didn't get anybody anything. But he hardly knew them. He didn't even know the shortest one's name!

He rolled his eyes, leaning his head on the driver's window. For crying out loud what was his name? Opi? Ofi? Apple? How could he even sign his name to something if he didn't know it?

He found himself slowly driving back towards the Koneko. Maybe something there would give him a clue as to what he should get them. If he should get anything, that is. He sighed slightly, leaving the Porsche in the drive and walking in silently. He knew what he had to do. Raid their rooms. It was not so farfetched. He had planned on trashing Youji's room at least. He wondered once or twice why the smoker had gotten under his skin, then thinking merely back to the other day when he found Youji snooping around his own room, disheveling everything in sight in a wave of disaster satisfied to boil his nerves enough not to change his mind. Perhaps this way, he could figure that kid's name out too.

The first room happened to belong to Kes. He narrowed his eyes on the Japanese soccer jersey strewn on the floor. Make that Ken. Ken Hidako. He rolled his eyes. What did it matter to him what their names were? He knew their code names, and that was good enough, or should be. Well firstly he couldn't tell a bloody thing since the room was so messed up. How can someone live like this? Everything was coated in dirt, grass, and soccer ball shards. Now this was gross. He wondered absently as to whether he should run from the room or not. But it was too late for that. Too late since he already had a mental image of the room. If he left now, he would only come back in and clean.

_**This was a stupid idea**_. He thought. **_This really sucks. Sumatran better appreciate this as his Christmas gift._** He brought a laundry basket down from the mainly empty rooms upstairs and a handful of cleaning utensils he had to steal out of the shop and began to scrub, stuff, and pack. The carpet was stained beyond hope as if "Siberian" had dragged the whole of the outside world in with him. He was sure the smell of dirt would never leave his nostrils.

So, another hour later, he was erupting from the cleanliness that spread itself over Siberian's room to be engulfed in the tumbling turmoil of Oki's. No name plate displayed anywhere in here though. Which sucks, so now he's stuck calling the kid Bombay. Oh well. But not only that now. He's stuck cleaning this room too. At least it isn't as bad. The only thing ground into the carpets this time was microscopic computer chips and the bulk of the mess resulted from the various paper plates, pizza boxes and sushi wrappers lying around from his late night raids on the hacker's net. All right, so the kid was a computer junkie. He had suffered with those kind in the past.

Lastly was Youji's room. Funny thing being, he only remembered the guys name from the countless throngs of women who shouted it from the roof tops whenever he dared to leave the Koneko no Sumu Ie and the smoker tagged along for annoyance sake. And now he was reminded of the man's natural stench when he dared open the room door and was smacked dead with waves of smokey air. Of course the clouds were long gone, but their evidence remained in every over flowing cigarette tray, empty carton, and ash covered walls. He suddenly felt and overwhelming sense of pity for the Seven. Aya simply refused to go in without protecting his precious lungs. So he disappeared into Ori's room and grabbed a gas mask he found in the closet.

The place was perhaps the worst. Aya nearly felt like the reverse of Goldie Locks, cursed to clean the rooms he invaded rather then take the pick of the litter.

Litter, that made a lot of sense.

Litter. Hn, and weren't they cats too?

Aya picked up about the fifteenth pack of ciggs and was crossing the room to toss them out when he felt something loop around his foot and pull taut. His leg was trapped. Aya looked down in wonder as to what invisible monster hiding in the hollows of trash bags. Instead he found something he had not expected. Razor wire. Now what in the layers of heaven was that doing, lying around? He reached down to remove the snare tangled around the ankle of his sandaled foot then withdrew his hand nearly as quickly. A dab of fresh blood stained his finger tip.

_**Uh oh.**_

He pulled at his ankle to get it loose, but only succeeded in getting it caught tighter. Panic began to seep into him. The guys shouldn't be back for over a week. He just had to get loose! He searched beneath the clutter to find the source of the razor wire but it was trapped somewhere beneath the dresser. Aya sat to better get a look at the situation, finding out simply that two loops of the cord were tangled tightly around his ankle. He looked around for the gloves he had seen Youji use to handle the wire safely, but finding them absent looked forlornly at his predicament. He reached over into the dresser drawers and picked out a shirt. Wrapping his hands in it safely then tried his careful prying once more.

A shredded shirt, de-sandaled foot, and two paper-cut-like wounds later he was free. That was it, Youji was going to have to live in his filth. Aya wasn't about to risk losing his legs or even a finger to the wire he could now see lying everywhere like miniature trip lines. Then again the cleaning, buying, and the visit to his sister had taken a bit out of him. He decided to retreat to his room, discarding the gas mask on Bombay's bed.

The next day he found himself up relatively early, cleaning the remainder of the Koneko. The flower shop was already well off, but he swept the floor and treated a few plants then straightened the kitchen and did what few dishes found themselves in the sink. It was a rarity to see them. Not that the guys were good as far as that up keep went, they just never had enough food in the house to need them.

When the place looked decently presentable, he began to realize the sad drabness of it all. Granted his own room consisted of little more then an air mattress on top of a bed and box spring with a dresser containing only three out of five drawers to it. Obviously Weiss wasn't expecting another person any time soon. As far as the rest of the place, even though he was never much into the holiday spirit, he did contract an overwhelming feeling of homesickness seeing absolutely nothing around the place. Not even a wreath. Not even a freaking mistletoe cleverly hidden by a fan girl to create awkward situations.

Odi felt it was worthless seeing that they were all spending the holiday in the cottage. Aya almost regretted not going along, but one look at that Porsche made his mind smile. No, staying was worth it. And he'd have his very own Christmas. All alone. He'd set up a tree, gather decorations, make a big flower arrangement for Aya-Chan's room, and buy the guys gifts. Aya slapped a hand to his forehead.

**_What is wrong with me! _**He yelled at himself. Was the trip actually making him soft?

Eggnog.

He needed eggnog.

A lot of eggnog.

He gathered up his mental list of things to do, killing Youji by stringing him up by his own razor wire was among the top of the list.

He had to do something about that. The chain smoker needed a better way to carry that wire around then the large loop he usually held on his belt like some western cowboy. We smiled. Maybe he should get him a big Texan hat.

"..."

_**Uh, no. Something to hold the wire would do fine. What else? Oxi could get something technological, like an iPod.**_ He didn't see one of those in his mess of wires and gadgets. _**What about Hidako?**_

Aya snickered another cackle.

_**Maybe something involving soccer would rock his world.**_

List complete he spent the day out, cruising the town in Aya-chan's Porsche buying gifts. When the trunk was packed to the max he went out after a tree. Now that, he definitely refused to buy. He rode a few hours out of Tokyo to an old spot his family used to visit. A thought that caused him pain, and yet relief in the fact that he knew something would be there. And he was right. In area where so long ago it had been tradition to cut the family tree together, Aya found a six foot wonder. Only a little taller then himself, but it would do. The recent snow left flaky tendrils over its bristly spines. Removing his katana, he sized up the blow. It would be tricky to get it in one shot, but it may be possible. He took out his sharpening stone that had rubbed a bare spot in his cotton pocket. After a few strikes against the blade to put a finer point against it, he made the slice. It was a long arc, conserving the better part of his consciousness as the leather hilt fit snugly against the calluses in his hands. His breath exhaled with a sheen of white vapor turned frosty in the cold air. The tree slid off its severed trunk soundlessly and hit the snow. Aya smiled at his seamless accomplishment and hoisted the tree over his shoulders back to the Porsche. To prevent scratching the paint job on the roof, he spread a thick blanket between the pine and the car. A few quick bungee cords secured it and nearing sunset of day two he was headed home again.

He spent the night without sleep, working throughout on Christmassing the place up. He had planned everything carefully. Grabbing the left over decorations he found in the basement, he set the place aglow with holiday spirit he did not necessarily feel, but look at it this way, it was something that had been oddly addictive to do.

_**Why don't the lights work?**_

Aya rolled his eyes.

_**Why did Ochi keep un-light-able lights?**_

Now that he has a tree, where are the decorations for it?

None around.

That sucks. He worked so hard, found the perfect tree . . .

Make some.

He would make some. Little ginger bread men like his mom used to make.

A snicker. _**Wasn't that a song?**_

He didn't even like gingerbread men. They just always made his sister smile.

Fine, cookie guys it was.

The next morning Aya was putting the finishing touches on his ginger-bread-man-tree. He stood back, beaming at his accomplishment and, without taking time to pass out for a few hours jumped into his Porsche and headed out. Yesterday, while buying Ken's gift, he had overheard some nuns passing out fliers concerning a play the local orphans were hosting at the cathedral. Aya, who was in love with the old mythical churches and even more in the mood for handing out cash to the worthiest cause showed up for the morning play. It was the nativity story, typical for little church kids, and it was entertaining. He had been to far better acts in his impressive theater life, but this one was special, different.

The church was old, Gothic styled with large impressive stained glass and pointed steeples. It was cold and drafted, like the Koneko which by the way he had hired a repair man for, and smelled of fresh lilies and roses. When the play had finished, he simply wandered the halls of the church, allowing his mind time to rest without actual sleep. He grasped a sense of peace. He wanted to laugh. Peace, for an assassin, now that was a worthy comic.

The church really was soothing. He found he didn't really want to leave, regardless that it was Christmas Eve. He had plenty of time in the four days before the guys returned to enjoy himself, pig out on eggnog and German horror flicks, then clean everything up as if nothing ever happened. Except for leaving their presents on their beds, waiting to be discovered.

But not Youji. Oh no. Aya wouldn't dare enter his room, the booby trap lair, until the guy cleaned up his lines. His would wait by the door in obvious line of sight.

First he would visit Aya-chan and give her some fresh flowers, then bring on the movies!

* * *

Youji drew his coat closer in the frigid air that blew into the Seven's window. He refused to close it though. Ken behind him needed to freeze. Freeze until his blood was so cold it couldn't move more then half a beat per minute through his small veins. Serves the guy right for dragging him home early. 

Okey, so it wasn't entirely his fault. No one asks to break his leg on a hundred foot ski jump on a dare from yours truly. Youji smirked. Ken was an idiot to accept it though. Then again them coming home Christmas Eve was also Omi's fault. He had insisted, said the fun was gone from the cottage if dearest Ken could not enjoy himself. So homeward bound they were, at an hour passed midnight. Unwholesome.

But Youji had not put up much of a fight against it. In a way he missed that big jerk they left at the Koneko. It was nice having another guy around his age to pal around with. Even though he was more of the leech i.e. tick on Aya's back. He was more interesting then the chibis though.

And speaking of interesting . . .

Youji worked to replace the trail of drool listing down his cheek from the infinite spectacle that has just invaded his stray vision. It was a . . .it was a . . .

"A Porsche." Omi whispered beside him. "What whacko parked his Porsche behind the shop?"

Youji didn't answer him. Instead he hydroplaned the Seven into its parking spot, then leapt out in excitement, gluing himself to the hood of the Porsche's iced metal. "Omigosh, omigosh, omigosh, he exists, Santa does exist. I . . .I . . .I'm so happy!" He kissed the hood delicately, handling it as if it were a tricky woman then took a quick look around her before trying the driver's door.

Locked.

"Youji, I don't think we should be hanging all over it." Omi warned, seeing the assassin pull out his lock pick set. "Youji! Stop that! We don't even know who owns the thing!"

"Imminent domain, Omitchi." Youji responded, looking for a slot to put his picks in. There wasn't one. He blinked in shock, then with a worried expression pressed his face against the window. "Infrared sensor?" he cried in shock. "But, but, you need the remote for that! I can't get in without busting a window!"

The thought crossed his mind and Youji pulled back a fist before Omi caught it.

"Now, knock that off. Let's get Ken inside first then ask Aya what's going on."

Always the voice of reason, and Youji hated it. He shrugged and helped the soccer player forward over the ice shards that threatened to spill him on his bottom as the crutches sought out a firm hold on the ground. Omi unlocked the kitchen door and they let themselves into the dark room.

The dark, warm room.

Knowing instantly something was out of place, Ken flipped on the lights. The place was clean. Aya must have been desperate to do something. But what else was there? A faint aroma of cookies? And why was it warm?

"Must have been cold, got the heat fixed." Youji surmised. He opened the door to check for Aya in the living room and was met with a disturbing sight. Eggnog cartons. Tons of them, half a pint each. They were everywhere, leaking out of the trash, over the table, across the back on the couch and trailing upstairs to their rooms. "Went on a bender too. Maybe we shouldn't have left him alone after all."

Omi looked at the tape replaying itself on the television. "It's in German, I can't read it."

Youji glanced over. "Dracula versus Frankenstein. Some Christmas special." He knit his brow in worry. Porsche outside, eggnog everywhere, German horror flicks, and . . .

"A tree!" Omi jumped in excitement, peering into the Koneko. He flew inside the holiday decorated shop, surrounding himself in the flashing lights and smell of gingerbread and pine needles. "Oh wow, it's beautiful! Do you think Aya did this?"

"I'd be really scared if he did." Youji admitted. He resolved to go find Aya. This was too weird. Too extravagant. He made for the stares, running towards the end to get to Aya's room quicker. He had an overwhelming feeling of dread. Something must be wrong. Maybe he got bad news about his sister. Maybe someone in Rosen Kreuz died. Maybe he broke his katana. The worse the thought the quicker he moved. **_Please be alive, you stupid baka_**.

He pounded on the closed door. "Aya! Aya, open up!"

" . . ."

"Aya, come on, open up!"

"Go away."

Youji released a breath in relief. At least he was talking. "What's going on, Aya."

"Why are you home, Youji?"

(("Nani?"))

Aya opened the door a small measure, just enough to glare at him. "You're supposed to be in the mountains, drugy."

Youji folded his arms. At least Aya looked healthy. "Ken broke his leg. Omi made us come back."

_**Omi! Now that was the stupid kid's name!**_ Oh well, his gift already had the name Bombay on it. "Yeah, well, leave me alone." He moved to shut the door.

Youji kept it open with a boot. "Who's the Porsche belong to?"

(("Was?")) Aya raised an eyebrow. He was totally swimming on egg mush right now.

"The Porsche! The five million horse power hunk of tail pipe outside our front door!"

"Oh!" Aya rubbed his eyes tiredly. "That's Aya-chan's . . ." he paused, looking up warily. He wasn't sure if Youji knew anything about his sister.

"So you bought it for your sister?"

_**Idiot prying little gremlin**_. "Yeah, my sister."

"Can I drive it?" Youji looked as excited as a puppy seeing a prospective home outside the pound.

"Uh, no." another try to close the door.

Another block by Youji. "Please. Aya-san, it's a Porsche. I HAVE to drive it."

Aya smiled inwardly. Now he was begging, this was too good. "Let me drive the Seven."

Balinese took half a step back in shock. "Never." the words came out before he thought of them.

"Then no deal." Aya shut the door and hopped back in bed.

A second later Youji burst in. "Please! Aya, I need this! Let me drive her, just once, one time on the highway and that's it." He pulled the blankets off of the younger assassin's head. "Are you listening?"

Aya yanked the blankets back. "Oh, go away unless you plan to trade."

Youji was silent. Aya could hear a cigarette eject itself from his pocket carton and the lighter flicker to life. Then: "one ride?"

Aya sat up. "One. Same time. We'll pull out together." he looked incredulously at the cigarette. "And no smoking in my sister's car."

"What if I hang my hand out the window?"

Evil glare.

"Fine, no smokes. Do we have a deal?"

Aya shook on it. "Tomorrow morning. Bright and early. I need to sleep, so go away."

He drew the covers back over his head and Youji left with satisfaction. He got to drive the Porsche. He had never driven one before. Never! The excitement was going to keep him up all night. The thought of those crisp seats, sweet handling, gear shifts . . .

He bumped into something at the base of his door. It was . . .a present? For him? A gift? From Aya? He ripped it open, wrapping paper so perfectly placed falling into shreds on the floor. A note inside said it all:

_"For you to clean up that stupid wire all over your bloody room. Go hang yourself, Youji-chan."_

Then he lifted up a yellow sports watch. But it wasn't any watch. Youji's specialized sight for the non-obvious presented him with the knowledge that just beneath the face was a long rotating wheel, like a fishing rod. It was perfect for his wires. That jerk. Youji hadn't gotten him anything.

"Youji! Youji look! Someone cleaned my room! And left me a present!" Ken erupted from his room, holding a larger then normal box in his outstretched hands. Its wraping paper gleamed in the colored lights filtering up from the Christmas tree downstairs and his eyes were swollen large in happiness. "Should I open it?"

"Why not, it's from Aya." Youji replied simply, watching Omi show up from his room with an iPod stringing from his ears.

"Aya got us stuff." Omi said, smiling. "And we didn't even think of what to get him!"

"A goal net!" Ken screamed in glee, ripping the rest of the paper off with excitement. "Omigosh, I want to use it now!"

"Not until you're off the crutches, soccer jock." Youji replied, strapping the watch to his wrist. Oh yeah, he was totally loving this. He could just imagine the countless spools of wire he could attach to this puppy. He would never run out! But a pang of regret hit him subtly. The three original Weiss had agreed not to get him anything. After all they hardly knew him and Aya Fujimiya did not seem like one who entertained much holiday spirit. They thought in essence they had done him a favor to avoid and awkward situation. Now, in the wake of his onslaught of holiday decorations, Christmas tree, clean rooms (save Youji of which the older man smiled), gifts, and the Porsche, the men instead found themselves in the awkward spot.

"It's your fault." Youji said, leaning on his doorway with a smile. "We came back early, remember? Aya had planned on cleaning all this up before we got back. He was having Christmas for himself and . . " Youji caught himself, he didn't exactly want to disclose the secrets about Aya's sister he had found out. Not just yet, it was too soon in their relationship. "Well, he's probably just homesick. I mean, German videos? Tons of eggnog? He's pretty well drunk on the stuff in there."

"What should we do? Go and get him something you think?" Omi asked while Ken didn't seem to be listening. He was too busy trying to keep his eyes inside his skull at the happiness he felt. It was full sized, perfect piping, huge net, he wanted to assemble it and he wanted to do it NOW.

"Earth to Ken-kun." Youji said, tapping the guy on his forehead. "Anyone in there?"

Ken looked up, obviously not having heard what he was saying.

"Yeah, no one around." Youji shrugged and lit another cigarette. "Well, can't do anything tonight. Everyone just go to sleep and we'll figure this out in the morning."

They nodded at the plan, silently crossing their fingers against the "sleep" portion since Ken would be busy assembling in his room, Youji would be winding his wire and dreaming about his ride tomorrow, and Omi would be awake, downloading music to his iPod and watching the Dracula movie out of pure curiosity. Now that was some freaky stuff he was sure would keep him awake for a year, checking his windows all the while for the stray vampire king to enter his room and suck him bone dry.

Aya smiled drunkly, having listened to their speech in the hall. Aya-chan would be proud of him. He was certain of it. Especially since he didn't plan on doing it next year. He was the only one who truly slept. Mainly, it was from passing out.

* * *

"Wake up Aya!" Youji said excitedly from just above him. This time he had forgone knocking whatsoever, figuring the hung over Aya would simply ignore it anyway. "It's morning, time to drive around to parts unknown in our respective cars!" he dangled his keys over Aya's head. When the younger didn't move he raised his voice a measure. "Aw, come on! It was your fault for drinking all that eggnog anyway!" 

"Fy bibnt bow gif ba mum."

Youji raised his eyebrows in wonder. Now he did speak German, he was the only other Weiss that did which helped strengthen the unwanted friendship between them. Aya was originally Japanese, and had no trouble speaking, only he preferred saying things no one understood. It had a homey touch to it. Erased the memories of his painful past in Tokyo. But Youji, with all his knowledge, had no idea what Aya had said beneath the muffle of his pillow. So, he lifted it off. (("Nani?"))

(("Was?"))

"What did you say?"

"I didn't know there was rum in it, now give that back!" he stole his pillow from the playboy's hand and clamped it over his ears. "Five more minutes, then I'll smoke you on the highway."

"No five minutes." Youji pulled the blankets off this time. "You need to move around. I'll whip you up my famous hang over shake and you'll be right enough to drive the Seven without me worrying if you'll junk her. Now let's go!" He grasped Aya around his chest and pulled him up, suffering the sock in the eye as Aya gained his footing and lumbered out of the room groggily.

"Fine. Grab my keys and work your voodoo." he disappeared into the bathroom.

Youji smiled, gave a slight jump/skip/howl of stemmed/silent excitement, grabbed the keys off the dresser and ran into the kitchen. A little paprika, raw egg, Gatorade, lemon zest, hot sauce, and wistisheer later he was blending his concoction with milk and dribbling it into a cup. At about this time Aya returned from the bathroom and slunk into one of the chairs surrounding the kitchen table. Youji plopped his drink in front of the assassin. "Now drink up, ok? I need you totally awake."

Aya nodded, wondering if Youji would ever take this intense of an interest into his physical well-being if he had not bought the Porsche. He decided the answer was probably not, and relished in the temporary relief of getting one leg up on him. Then he went to drawl a suddenly missing katana when he tasted the awful drink. He sputtered it up and hacked his lungs out, "Youji, you lousy little . . . What are you trying to do? Kill me?! I swear if you do, you'll never drive that Porsche!"

Youji rolled his eyes and set the drink in front of him again. "I didn't say it would taste as good as eggnog, you addicted baka. I said it would kill a hangover. Now drink."

"Yeah, and kill me in the process with it."

"Oh, shut up and plug your nose." He twirled the keys in his fingers, reminiscing over those flawless seats, the subtle curves so remarkably similar to a woman's–

"Let's get out of here before Oji wakes up." Aya set the empty glass in the sink, trying to rid himself of the after taste and grabbing his jacket.

"Who?"

"Opi, Ozi, whatever the devil that kid's name is." He opened the door and walked out into the new snow.

"Omi? Is that who you're talking about?" Youji asked in amazement. He always wondered why Aya didn't call anyone by name. He didn't know them, and that was slap-happy hilarious. "You do know my name right?" He asked curiously.

Aya paused a moment. "Yeah, Youji, Balifese."

He laughed. "Balinese, Aya."

Abyssinian waved his hand. "Oh, whatever." He was tossed the keys to the Seven and paused a minute to look the car over. This was going to be awesome.

"What about the soccer jock?" Youji called to him, sitting in the driver's seat of the Porsche.

"Who?"

"The other guy. There's Omi, Me, you, and . . ." he let his voice trail, wanting to know what abstract name he came up with.

"Ken. Ken Hidako, Sumatran."

Youji laughed loudly. "That's Siberian, but otherwise ok."

"Well, how am I supposed to know? I've been here what, a month? And I see you how often? And there's three of you for me to remember, you only have to remember one new one! So stick a cig in your mouth and drive, play boy."

"Oh, I can have my ciggs back now?"

"Not unless you want to smoke it through a new hole."Aya growled. That made Youji want to jump through his skin.

"Fine, fine, let's get out of here before the pining twits wake up. Who were they? Ozi and Sumatran?"

Aya didn't respond, but instead hit the gas and peeled out. They were on the barren snowed over highway in only a few minutes. Not even the cops dared come in this weather but the Porsche and Seven were dressed for the occasion that Christmas morning. Only a few last traveling stragglers were seen about and worthy targets for the two's race of one-upsies. On the first turn, Aya span out, making a series of mad circles over the ice slick road surface. Youji caught his breath in worry that the Seven may be totaled, but Abyssinian's reflexes came back under control and he straightened the ride out just before Youji passed him, riding sideways. Now it was Aya's turn to freak out with fear over his sister's beloved car. But Youji too made good with his actions and soon they were back on the straight and wide highway. Six hours later, they had refueled their cars and their stomachs and still not returned to the Koneko.

It was the last time they would ever switch cars. EVER and they both felt the necessity of making it last regardless of the jealous pangs coursing through them at seeing their own loved autos handled so precisely in the hands of another.

But midnight found them dragging their tired limbs, shocked with the speed barriers broken, into the back door. They tossed their keys successively on the counter top and drug themselves upstairs. Youji, finding his room cleaned, dust, and razor-wire free. Aya finding he HAD a room. It was true! There was a real bed, one actually made out material and springs. And a dresser with all the drawers intact. Well, sort of, the left top one was crooked. Oh that was going to drive him crazy. He moved to adjust it and found . . .clothing. He had clothes now? All his stuff was lost on the plane ride from Germany! Everything but a frumpy orange sweater he hated but wore anyway since it made Youji cringe in distaste. But now their were jeans, printed t-shirts, sweaters (they must have thought he actually liked wearing them), and a lot of black. He was in heaven. And, what does catch the corner of his eye? A bookcase? Full of his books? Even the . . . he rushed closer to take a look and sighed in relief to find they had not discovered his secret book stash. Now that would be embarrassing! Totally contrary to the image he was looking for. He smiled with his satisfying ability to hide things from general discovery and sat on his bed. He reached beneath his assassin gear to recover a stash of magna. Forty more pages and volume twelve of Love Hina was done!

A knock came to his door and the book was stashed in a flash.

"Was?"

"Got something for you, lover boy."

_**Youji, shoot.**_ Aya grabbed his sword and sat up, looking menacing. "No more driving. I said one–"

The man came in, threw something at him, and retreated.

Aya raised a curious look, wondering if he should carry out the strangle-Youji plan now or later but instead decided to open the wrapped parcel that had made head contact. Paper extracted he was horrified to see the book in his hands. He ran out and pounded on the playboy's door, screaming as loud as his lungs would carry:

"Youji, you stupid, bloody, fricken' Baka! If you go any deeper into my life I promise to string you up by your own wire!"

He retreated to his room, unable to wait and find out the results of his new novel. Love Hina volume 13.

* * *

Süß und schön: Sweet and beautiful 

Was: what?

Nani?: What?

I know nothing of love hina, the name looked un-aya-like so i decided to use it. Hope you liked, please review!


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